Do you miss me too?
I just had this image of you searching for your name on Google like people sometimes do and stumbling upon this entry, this site, and me.
Would you remember me?
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There’s nothing like lounging in a tub of water and my own filth surrounded by dim candlelight and listening to Yann Tiersen that makes me quite so reflective. Somehow this way I can think about all the things that have gone wrong the past few days: all the things I don’t like that I’ve done or things done to me, undisturbed: so I sit there and ponder it. Chew it in my mouth over and over like a piece of gum until it loses its flavor. And then I get up, empty the water in the tub and gaze at the drain as all my troubles slip away and out of my sight; out of my own analysis and stand to rinse off the residue. And then it’s time to start anew. To try yet again.
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